Here are a few things you need to know about me, I was a Mortician’s Apprentice, I write Tales of The Macabre, I’m not a stranger to despair or pain or tragedy and nothing that people can do to themselves or each other phases me anymore.

I thought I’d seen it all.

That all went out the door last night when I attended the screening of Michael Moore’s Film Sicko.This movie got in my face and I couldn’t fight it back- it made me think and it made me feel.

 And most of what I felt was angry.

I was angry, furious, at myself for living in a culture that allows Dollar Munching Desk Trolls in the Health Industry to tell a man they’re denying him treatment -( thereby allowing him to die-) and then allows those Trolls to send this man home to deal with this death sentence alone behind a closed door while his wife stands on the other side of the door alone and has to realize that her husband is about to be torn from her life and there isn’t a thing she can do to stop it.

I’m furious that any Mother in this Country has to hold her dead child in her arms and apologize… You read that right APOLOGIZE for allowing her to die because she didn’t make the right call to the right Dollar Munching Desk Troll at an Insurance Company and ask the right question that would have allowed her to live.

Those Dollar Munching Desk Trolls should have been holding that Dead Child and they should have been there apologizing because that Child should still be here…damn it she should NOT be gone.

I challenge you- see the film and see if you can walk away from it without questioning  why we take such horrible care of each other and ourselves- why we’ve allowed ourselves to be fertilzer that makes the lawns of Corporate America so green- then you win.

It’s that simple.

In fact, I’ll be the first to say you win and I’ll stand on the curb with my mouth shut and allow you to enjoy your victory…it’s all yours and you should enjoy every second of it.

Just don’t get Sick.

MICHAEL MOORE WANTS TO HEAR FROM YOU!

Official Trailer

I was thinking about a conversation I had on my way to work this morning.

I ride the bus into Seattle every morning-  my route is called the Commuter Bus. The Commuter Bus is like the School Bus revisted so there’s the cool kids, the loner kids and the loser kids.

I fall between the last two, so I keep to myself.

This morning this guy gets on the bus, and you know he’s fallen on hard times and he sort of smelled like stale beer. When he passed me he said hello like he knew me and then apologized because he’d mistaken me for someone else.

( sure ).

So we start talking about where he’s headed for the day and then he starts to tell me about his job and how he has some family issues to deal with.

You know sometimes you can just see that someone needs to talk? They just want for someone to know they’re here.

So I start to talk to him and as we’re talking Miss America who blesses us with her attitude and presense every morning,  leans across the aisle to where one of the other Cool Kids,  (I mean Commuter)  is sitting from her and she’s making fun of me and this guy.

To his credit the other Cool Kid (I mean commuter) ignores her and she sits back and shuts her mouth for the rest of the trip.

So this guy goes into detail about his job as a Flagger ( he directs traffic when the roads are under construction ) and he’s into it. He told me about the tree types of flags they use. How some flaggers are actually scared of traffic and cars and how some people are just not into the job.

He obviously is.

Now I thought this was interesting because I see these guys all the time and I never really thought about what it was like to be out there. I never realized that there was drama an excitement out there along side the road…and I should have.

So I let him talk and it was a good trip, it was a fun talk and time well spent. He made me forget I wasn’t one of the Cool Kids ( I mean Commuter ) that sits alone in the back of the bus and waits for the trip to be over every morning.

When I got off the bus Miss America looks up at me with a frown and gives her long blond hair a toss as I walk by.

Oh  I almost forgot…it was a satisfying trip too.

Could you let someone walk by you, cut and bleeding or maybe scared and crying without doing a thing to help?

Could you let a man in a daze wander into traffic as buses and cars raced around him?

 Could you walk by a child- and by a child I mean someone under the age of 10- and leave him or her standing in the middle of a store with a terrified look on his or her face- and not ask them if they needed help?

Would it surprise you to hear that most people have told me they would just let it go? That they’re sure nobody would help them if they needed it, that no one would care if they were hurt.

So why should they help anybody else?

“I would help you.” I want to say  ” Actually I  would have helped you. “